


Kings

by RubySmiley



Category: Haikyuu!!, Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe - Dark, Angst, Crossover, Drama, Tragedy, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 02:55:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5113541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubySmiley/pseuds/RubySmiley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One fateful murder marks the beginning of a tragedy—for humans and ghouls alike. </p><p>This is not a happy story. </p><p>[No pairings; only pain.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Oikawa Tooru was hungry.

 

He licked at the blood beginning to congeal on his hands and forearm, frowning when his feet splashed through dark puddles of crimson. What a waste, he thought—because despite having eaten an entire month’s worth of human flesh, it still wasn’t enough. With a little sigh, he lifted his gaze from the remains of the corpses left strewn in the darkness of Tokyo’s winding alleyways—and found himself gazing into the terrified eyes of a human girl.

 

She took a shaky step backward, mouth hanging open in horror. And then another, and another. Then she was running, shoes slipping on the bloody ground and arms flailing to keep her balance while she fled. Oikawa allowed her the brief satisfaction of a head start before giving chase.

 

At times, he wondered whether humans truly believed they could outrun a ghoul if they tried hard enough; or if their pathetic, last moments of survival instinct served nothing but to prolong the inevitable. His fingers closed around the girl’s arm, prompting the beginnings of a shriek that was quickly stifled as he flung her to the ground. She rolled several meters away before coming to a stop, face-down—hands curling and uncurling as she feebly attempted to get up. The breath finally knocked out of her lungs, she merely lay as a shivering mess on the cold concrete, blood trickling from where skin had broken across her forehead.

 

Oikawa took a step forward.

 

“N-No…” There were tears streaming from the girl’s face as she craned her neck up to look at his approaching figure, her vision swimming in and out of focus. “P-Please… Nn…no…”

 

Oikawa stopped in front of her and crouched down. She squeezed her eyes shut when the fabric of her shirt was gripped as he hauled her upright, more tears spilling from beneath swollen eyelids. Oikawa lifted a hand; no kagune would be needed for this kill.

 

“W…W…” The girl’s lower lip, split and oozing blood, trembled.

 

He readied it to strike.

 

“W…a…kato…shi…” 

 

Oikawa froze. And in that moment of shocked hesitation, the girl had mustered up the remainder of her strength to scream out into the night.

 

“Wakatoshi! **_WAKATOSHI! Aghh…_** P-Please… save me… Waka…toshi… Wakatoshi…” 

 

Oikawa found that his raised arm was beginning to shake. He lowered it, vaguely aware of the sensation of the skin on his lower back breaking apart to release his kagune. The smile that began to play upon his bloodstained lips betrayed the gleaming rage that swam in his scarlet eyes. When the girl felt his grip on her loosening, she dared to open her eyes—only to discover the ghoul’s face a mere inches away from her own, and grinning with an animalistic ferocity.

 

“Wakatoshi, you say?” Oikawa breathed, his hand moving from her back to find purchase in messy locks. “A relative of yours? A friend? Does his surname happen to be **_Ushijima_** , perhaps?” The name was emphasised with a brutal snarl as his nails dug into her scalp, drawing blood and uprooting several strands of hair. Her cry of pain went unnoticed. Instead, he tilted his head backward and laughed—slowly and quietly at first, and then loudly and violently until he was gasping for breath. 

 

“Don’t worry,” he whispered at last, when his laughter had calmed. “I won’t eat you.”

 

The glimmer of confusion and relief only prompted him to laugh further—for in the next second he had broken her arm, grabbing the frail appendage and snapping the bone. The girl’s screams died in her throat as her consciousness began to leave her body, eyes rolling up to the back of her head as the last whimper of a dreaded name escaped. Oikawa smiled.

 

**_“I’m going to murder you.”_ **

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween, everyone! I hope I haven't ruined Oikawa for anyone. QvQ;; I have two more chapters already written and will be posted soon. I'm hoping to keep a buffer of chapters that will allow me to post regular updates. Hope you enjoyed it!


	2. The Cat's Cradle

The tinkling of the door opening prompted a gruff, "Sorry, we're closed," from the black-haired man whose back faced the doorway as he stacked glasses on the shelves. 

 

"All the better, isn't it?" the customer stated, stool creaking as he took a seat. "That way we can discuss matters in peace."

 

At the familiar voice, the man turned, a slow grin spreading across his face. "Oh? What a surprise. I never expected to see you here." He placed the last of the wine glasses on the shelf before turning around completely. 

 

"Hm. By the way, it's not a good idea to keep your back turned, even in a place like this…Kuroo."

 

Kuroo's grin only widened. "Do you underestimate me that much?" he laughed. "What a shame. I don't often give people like you such a warm welcome during closing hours." As he spoke, people began to emerge from the shadows of the small room—moving silently to stand around their leader, cat-like eyes gleaming scarlet in the dim light.

 

Kuroo bowed with an elegant flourish. 

 

"Welcome to The Cat's Cradle… Sawamura."

 

* * *

 

"Information, huh?" Kuroo drawled, pouring Sawamura a drink. “What does the leader of The Crows want to know today?"

 

Sawamura lifted the crimson-filled glass to his lips as he took a sip. Behind him, the ever watchful Kenma silently observed with unblinking eyes. Sawamura drummed his fingers on the countertop, brows furrowed, before he began to speak.

 

“The CCG,” he stated, crossing his arms and going straight to the point. “What have their recent movements been? Especially taking into account the rapidly circulating news of… one particular binge-eater.” 

 

Kuroo hummed in thought. “Yes, the public has been rather antsy. The investigators have stepped up their game, I have to admit—but unfortunately, said binge-eater has yet to be caught. But I’m sure you would know if he had been,” he added casually, eyeing the way Sawamura’s shoulders stiffened ever so slightly. With a snicker, he waved his hand dismissively.  

 

“Hey, now, don’t be like that. You know how quickly rumours spread around these parts. It’s not _just_ because you _might_ have someone in your group who is—how shall I say this…” he allowed himself to trail off thoughtfully, his grin spreading even wider across his  face, “…a friend of our infamous binge-eater.”

 

Sawamura grunted. “Not much a friend.”

 

“Heh. Well, none of us are technically friends, are we? Anyways…” Kuroo twirled a gleaming glass in a deft hand. “I’d suggest keeping Kageyama away from those Royalty ghouls. You bunch better stay away as well. It seems that the binge-eater has morphed into a state of instability. The CCG are targeting him directly, and if we were to be caught up in the mess they created, well…” 

 

He allowed the glass to slip from his grasp. Sawamura narrowed his eyes—

 

—But no shattering of glass was heard. Kuroo elegantly caught it with his foot, flinging it right back up into the air before catching it again. He shot a rather smug grin Sawamura’s way, which was only returned with an exasperated expression. In the background, Kenma snorted unappreciatively, mumbling something about having to clean it again. Kuroo laughed.

 

“You know what’ll happen, don’t you?” he said, walking over to the sink and turning on the faucet. Only the pattering of water streaming against glass could be heard in the silent bar as Sawamura closed his eyes in response.

 

* * *

 

The tinkling of the door when the two men bid one another goodbye was a relief to Kuroo’s group of ghouls, who immediately began to clean up the closed bar. With a sigh and a little tired grumble, Kuroo snagged a can of cold coffee from the cooler and popped the tab open, bringing it to his lips. His other hand ran through his already tousled, black hair as he watched his fellow ghouls go by. Kenma remained seated on a bar stool, and though his fingers were rapidly tapping away at a game on his phone, his sharp yellow eyes were as intuitive as ever.

 

“Can you feel it, Kenma?” Kuroo mused absently. “My skin’s prickling. Like static.”

 

A small sound effect was played from Kenma's phone, followed by a series of descending notes.  _Game over._

 

“A storm’s coming,” Kuroo nodded to himself, and took another sip.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to the person who first brought up the idea of Nekoma running a ghoul bar!! It's a wonderful headcanon, and I'm glad to finally be able to use it in a proper fanfiction! If you guys would like to see some more Tokyo Ghoul x Haikyuu things, please feel free to drop by my tumblr scenario blog, tokyo-volleyball!


	3. The Beginning of the End

“Oikawa.”

 

No response.

 

**_“Oikawa.”_ **

 

****The silence was stifling.

 

**_“OIKAWA!”_ **

 

He accepted the punch, accepted the crack of his neck as his head snapped to the side. Blood spilled from the corners of his mouth but he licked it away. The brown-haired ghoul allowed his head to hang, hooded eyes marked with something akin to madness. 

 

“What the hell are you doing?” The snarl was feral. “Answer me! _What are you_ ** _DOING_** _?!”_  

 

Oikawa closed his eyes and laughed lightly.

 

_Crack._ Another punch. This time, his eye—and he stumbled backward from the force of the blow, a hand cupping the bruised flesh. A thump, this time, reverberated about within his ribcage as a hard fist connected with his stomach. Oikawa allowed the relentless pummelling to continue—four, five, six, seven; was this enough for repentance?—before a breath of air escaped him and his own hands moved with instinct. 

 

“Iwa-chan.”

 

Oikawa blocked the furious attack, the smile gone from his face as he gripped his comrade’s arm. Even when his fingertips broke the flesh Iwaizumi did not move, nor did he express any sign of pain; in any other scenario, perhaps Oikawa would have been proud of his comrade’s resilience. But instead, his eyes narrowed as he shoved Iwaizumi away from him, blood dripping down his calloused palms and pouring down Iwaizumi’s bicep. Their gazes met for a lifetime of churning emotions: fury, and stone cold grief.

 

“To any other person,” Oikawa said softly, “I would have told them, ‘You don’t understand.’” He took a step forward, grasping at the fabric of his white t-shirt and staining it with red. “But Iwa-chan… you understand more than anything, don’t you?”

 

“Enough,” Iwaizumi spat, hands clenching into fists once again. “I’m sick of it. You—” He crossed their distance in two long strides, Oikawa’s hand falling limply from where it had clutched at his heart as Iwaizumi gripped it to yank it forward. “—and your fucking binge-eating habits.” And with that he let go, turning his back and storming away.

 

Oikawa’s gaze followed Iwaizumi’s receding form before he stumbled off in the opposite direction, a choked laugh bubbling up from his dry, painful throat.

 

“I’m sorry,” he cried out, turning his head towards the grey sky and pressing his shaking fingers against the swelling of his eye and his jaw. “I’m sorry, Iwaizumi. I’m sorry, Matsukawa. I’m sorry, Hanamaki. I’m sorry, Yahaba. I’m sorry, Watari. I’m sorry, Kyoutani. I’m sorry, Kindaichi. I’m sorry, Kunimi. I’m so sorry, I couldn’t help it, I…” 

 

He exhaled.

 

“If you were in my position,” he whispered, “you would have done the same.”

 

Oh, how everything suddenly hurt. 

 

* * *

 

“Ushijima, sir, are you certain that you are alright?” 

 

To the inattentive eye, the Ushijima’s regular stoic expression betrayed nothing; but his grip tightened ever so slightly on the handle of the briefcase he carried as he entered Tokyo’s CCG headquarters. The small, rather unimportant figure scuttling nervously alongside the police force’s top Special Class Investigator should not have asked him such a question at all (and in retrospect, said small, unimportant figure recognised it the moment those words left his mouth)—but Ushijima was in no mood to correct him, instead opting to lengthen his already lengthy stride towards the elevators.

 

“Hello, sir. I’m surprised to see you in today. Good work.”

 

“Good morning, Investigator Ushijima. How are you faring?”

 

“Do take some time off, if you need to. Such news is hard to bear.”

 

“My condolences, Ushijima. I hope you and your family are well.”

 

“I’m sorry to hear about your sister, Ushijima.”

 

His co-workers were so, so noisy. 

 

He drowned their unimportant voices out with ease, manoeuvring around the pristine halls of the building and past spotless suits and ties and gleaming shoes. Ushijima had never been the impatient type—after all, he expected all things to progress in his direction, in the end, as they naturally would—but when he saw no sign of his squad leader he found that the haphazardous contents of his upturned mind were beginning to quake—

 

Ah, there he was.

 

“Investigator Ushijima. What’s the hurry?” Without a moment too late, a piece of folded paper was pressed against his hands, the squad leader’s fingers closing about it with hesitant interest. Eyebrow raised, he moved his gaze from the paper to Ushijima’s waiting self—standing tall and broad, looking him right in the eye. 

 

It was the glistening edge of withheld pain that spurred him to open the letter right then and there. His hands smoothed over the crisp paper, unfolding it and scanning the heading, thin lips set in a grim line:

 

_Investigation Special Request: Binge-Eater._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND SO THE HUNT BEGINS.
> 
> I'm so sorry for the pain, everyone. Yes, our dear Ushiwaka is a ghoul investigator—and for the people confused about whether the murdered girl was supposed to represent the reader or not, here's your answer. And no, this story isn't going to be a reader-insert. Really sorry for those who started reading it expecting it to be! 
> 
> Thanks for sticking around, guys!


	4. The Clouds That Gather

“What are you doing so close to the border?”

 

An aggressive voice sent a jolt down Hinata’s spine. Slowly, he turned around, eyes straining in the dark—and to his dismay, spotted a familiar blonde mohawk and a familiar scowl. 

 

“Y-Yamamoto-san…” He hurriedly scurried backwards, only for Yamamoto Taketora to follow, hands already rolling up his sleeves. Gulping, Hinata held up his hands in defence—“I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean it, please forgive me, ahh”—and thankfully, Yamamoto stopped his menacing advance, three meters away.

 

“Stop slinking around so suspiciously around our territory,” Yamamoto hissed, narrowing his eyes. “Get lost.”

 

“H-Hey!” Hinata protested, dropping his hands to his sides and balling them into fists. “That’s not fair! I wasn’t even doing anything! I was just looking for someone, geez!” The hairs in the back of his neck were beginning to rise in agitation; had he ever been this vocal about his protests? It seemed that a similar effect was taking control of his aggressor, for Yamamoto too was beginning to puff up in irritation. 

 

“Hah? Are you looking for a fight?”

 

“A-Are _you_ looking for a fight?”

 

Yamamoto pounced. 

 

Hinata dug his feet into the ground, dodging the first punch that was thrown at him and nimbly sidestepping away from the second. The third was blocked by his forearms, which came up to shield his face. And the fourth—

 

“Gah!” He wasn’t able to evade the flying kick sent his way, feet skidding across the ground from the force of it. Blood surfaced in his throat from where Yamamoto’s shoe connected with his stomach, and when he paused to spit it out and regain his breath, Yamamoto’s fist rammed into the side of his face. Hinata was hurled through the air, but twisted his body midair so that he could land on his feet, one hand bracing the ground as he slid to a stop. Panting angrily, he brought a hand to his mouth to wipe the blood that trickled from his split lip.

 

Yamamoto did not spare another moment to race forward again—only for a shadowed figure to drop from the building above and land directly in front of him. 

 

“What are you doing on our side of the border?”

 

Yamamoto froze. Sugawara Koushi folded his arms over his chest and stared him down.

 

“I—”

 

“ ** _YAMAMOTO!_** ” 

 

He flinched at the stern yell. Hinata watched in amazement as Yamamoto’s entire body seemed to deflate when another small, orange-haired ghoul stormed forward to meet them. Suga regarded Yaku pleasantly, who, upon reaching Yamamoto, delivered a solid thwack to the back of his skull. Yamamoto’s yelp of pain was ignored as Yaku turned towards Suga and bowed.

 

“My apologies,” he said, allowing a brief moment to pass before straightening up again. “The recent news regarding the binge-eater is causing much tension at the moment. Please forgive his behaviour. It will not happen again.”

 

“No worries,” Suga replied, nodding in understanding. “I apologise as well. It is uncharacteristic for Hinata to be this aggressive, but I will be sure to reprimand him for it. There will be no repeat of this incident, I assure you.”

 

Yaku beamed. “Good. Thank you for your understanding. Now, we will be on our way.” With that, he turned around, grabbed Yamamoto’s hood, and dragged him off. Suga watched the two disappear into the alleys before facing Hinata, who had by now risen to his feet. 

 

“I’m sorry—”

 

Suga laughed lightly. “Like I said, it’s fine! We’re tense too, and Yamamoto can get rather hasty. In the meantime, however, weren’t you supposed to be sparring with Kageyama?”

 

Hinata paled. “Oh. Right.”

 

**_“HINATA!”_ **

 

It was Hinata’s turn to flinch when the raven-haired boy appeared, jaw clenched and brow furrowed with annoyance. He towered over the shorter male, who instinctively leaned away from his looming presence and laughed nervously. 

 

“Th-there you are… aha… I-I… w-was… j-just looking for you—”

 

“Hmph. Stop slacking and let’s get back to training.”

 

Suga waved the two of them goodbye. “Don’t be too harsh on him, now,” he called as Kageyama hauled Hinata away. 

 

* * *

 

“Square your shoulders more; stop hunching over. Your arms are being held too low; move them up a bit more. Keep your chin up and don’t take your eyes off of your opponent—” A pause. “Hinata, are you even listening?!” 

 

Hinata stiffened—“Y-Yes!”—only to receive a punch straight in the nose. He doubled over with a pained cry, blood gushing from his nostrils. Kageyama dropped his fighting stance.

 

“How have you even survived for this long?” he grumbled, stalking over and pointing at him accusingly. “You can’t even handle a punch to the noise without—ghh!” At that moment, Hinata, who was still hunched over, had grabbed hold of Kageyama’s outstretched arm, twisted, and flung the taller boy head over heels behind him. With an annoyed growl, Kageyama launched himself from the ground just in time to block a frantic array of punches, launched by a frustrated Hinata. There was a different glint to his eyes, this time; one of piercing, questioning intensity.

 

“Who’s this binge-eater guy, Kageyama?” Hinata dodged a punch and retaliated with a kick. 

 

“You don’t know him? Where have you been all this time?” Kageyama sidestepped and grabbed Hinata’s leg, tossing him into the air and readied another punch. 

 

Hinata grunted, bringing up his knees to block the blow and flipping over to land on his feet. “It’s not my fault that up till now”—he ducked his head and somersaulted across the ground—“I’ve been focused on surviving alone instead of”—he pushed himself off the floor with his hands—“paying attention to some guy that I have never even met.”

 

“…Fair enough.”

 

“So who is he?”

 

Kageyama faltered—and pain exploded across his abdomen when Hinata’s fist successfully connected with his flesh. “Guh—Just,” he breathed, managing to evade the second punch, “some high-rated ghoul who eats too much for his own good.” 

 

“So, you don’t know him, then?” The intensity of Hinata’s wide-eyed stare had increased a tenfold, so much so that he felt holes being seared into his skin. He furrowed his brows and gave no reply, to which Hinata crowed triumphantly, “Hey! So you do!”

 

Kageyama felt bile rising in his throat. His throws and swings were getting more shaky and erratic. _Stay calm, stay calm._ “It’s none of your business.” 

 

“Yes it is! Aren’t we friends?” 

 

_Shut up._

 

“How come you’ve never mentioned him till now?”

 

**_Shut up._ **

 

“Hey, if you know him, then we might be able to do something about how the CCG is—”

 

**_“SHUT UP!”_ **

 

Scarlet dashed the night. It took a moment for Hinata to register to feeling of blood splattering across his cheek and the sensation of flesh on his left shoulder cleanly splitting. He was thrown backward, landing on the cold ground with a gasp and hiss, searing pain throbbing about the open wound. In front of him, Kageyama’s eyes were a flash of red against black, his chest heaving and fists trembling as a pair of pulsing wings extended from his back. Hinata’s eyes—still brimming with shock—remained fixed on Kageyama, whose kagune retreated into his back. The two boys were only vaguely aware of the frantic approaching footsteps of their fellow ghouls. 

 

Kageyama whirled around, dark hair falling over his eyes as he whispered:

 

_“They don’t know I’m alive.”_

 

Hinata could only watch as he stormed away.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was originally planning on having Inuoka initiate the fight, but then I thought about it and was like, "Nah... even if he was tense he wouldn't do something like that." Taketora, on the other hand... Poor Hinata, getting himself beat on by other people during this chapter. I was really excited to write some action sequences, though! BUT I can't actually fight—so everything I wrote here probably makes no sense but shhhh it's okay OTL i-it made sense in my head, at least...
> 
> And yes, in this AU, Nekoma and Karasuno are right next to each other (unlike in the anime). As a result can often get into minor border skirmishes.


	5. Drizzle

Laboured panting echoed off the looming walls that lined the alleyway. Three sets of footsteps pounded against the pavement—two sets, matching one another’s pace as they raced down the winding side-streets, and the third, following in hot pursuit.

 

“Kunimi,” hissed the taller of the pair, securing his ghoul mask over his face as he ran, “what are we even doing?”

 

“Running; what does it look like?” came the halfhearted reply.

 

“I _know_ that! But why? Let’s fight him!”

 

“I’m tired,” Kunimi mumbled, flickering eyes cast down towards the ground. “And I’m not even hungry. I just want to sleep.”

 

“Ugh!” With an aggravated snarl, the frustrated ghoul began to reverse in direction, red eyes flashing dangerously behind his mask. “Fine! Keep on running. I’ll handle the guy.” He spun around completely and took off towards the rapidly approaching footsteps of their pursuer. Kunimi slowed down.

 

_Ba-dump._

 

He cringed and hesitated. But when his comrade disappeared around the corner, he steeled himself and whirled around to follow. 

 

“Kindaichi!”

 

* * *

 

The CCG officer’s briefcase dropped to the floor; from within it a pulsing Quinque was produced—and swung in the direction of the figure violently bursting from the darkness. In the same moment, Kindaichi’s kagune erupted from his back, red flesh forming a large blade. Kunimi emerged just as the two began to clash. 

 

The normally sleepy-eyed boy’s eyes widened, taking in the familiar sight of an investigator’s suit and weapon.

 

_Ba-dump._

 

Kindaichi did not even notice Kunimi nearing. This was not self-defence anymore; he was ready to murder.

 

_Ba-dump._

 

The lanky boy barely dodged the Quinque, which whistled several centimetres over his head. He swung his arm, his Koukaku kagune clanging against the investigator’s blade.

 

_Ba-dump._

 

Kindaichi let out a vicious snarl: “I’ll kill every last one of you!”

 

_Ba-dump._

 

Cloth and flesh ripped, blood spraying through the air.

 

**_Ba-dump._ **

 

With a cry, Kunimi’s eyes sclera clouded over with black and his irises with red, blood roaring through his veins as his own kagune burst from his back. 

 

* * *

 

“Two against one,” Kindaichi muttered, glaring down at the dead investigator and his shattered Quinque with disgust. “Che. What was the guy thinking, chasing both of us at once?” Kunimi’s gaze fell to the ground, brown eyes watching the way the blood pooled from beneath the limp body. Somehow, the sight of human meat only twisted his stomach around. 

 

“Maybe at this rate”—Kunimi glanced over at Kindaichi, at the bitter sneer tugging at his lips and at the way he still shook with rage—“we’ll be able to take down the CCG. Heh! Fucking humans,” he snorted, lifting his foot and stomping right down on the corpse, “all obsessed with promotions and all that shit. Maybe that’s why he took us on. They…” His voice shook; Kunimi tried to ignore it. “They just don’t care about survival anymore.”

 

Kunimi was generally quite the passive type; but he could not deny the fact that human beings repulsed him, with their petty morals and supposed empathy for life. (Yet were the ones exterminating his kind.) “They’re the worst,” he agreed, eyes shifting behind his mask.

 

“Should we take this back?” Kindaichi asked. “I’m not hungry either, but it’d be a pity to let a good human go to waste.”

 

A strange sensation in the air passed, then, and Kunimi went rigid. “Did… you hear that?”

 

Kindaichi turned his head. “Hear what—”

 

A spray of bullets were fired from the shadows of the alleyway; a squad of investigators descended upon them.

 

* * *

 

Yamaguchi looked out the window from where he was clearing a table of coffee mugs. A trail of dark liquid made its way from the edge of the cup and past the pristine words, printed cleanly on white porcelain: _The Crow’s Nest._

 

“Hey, Tsukki,” he said, prompting the tall, blonde-haired boy to turn around. Pushing up his glasses and tossing a rag to the side, Tsukishima made his way towards where his friend was standing. 

 

“What is it?”

 

“Look.” Yamaguchi pointed; outside, the first drop of rain fell.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter felt a little short, so sorry about that! Poor Kunimi... and Kindaichi, too. Sorry about randomly throwing in Tsukki and Yamaguchi; I couldn't help but give them a bit of a cameo ;OO Hopefully they have a bigger role later!


	6. Two-Tailed

_“Just last night, a major fight broke out between human and non-human. During a vicious ghoul attack, an investigator was killed. The CCG has claimed that the 20th Ward is the most peaceful ward in Tokyo—but after this incident, citizens are beginning to express their doubts…”_

 

“Aw, no,” Inuoka frowned, peering over Kenma’s shoulder to watch the flickering TV screen, which was suspended on the wall and close to the low ceiling of the bar. “That sucks. Hey, Kuroo, what are we gonna do?”

 

“About what, the fact that no one wants to come here anymore?” Somewhere near the back, Fukunaga made a noise that resembled a huff of amusement, while Kai merely shot Kuroo a look. The leader of the Cats dropped his mischievous grin in favour of a more serious expression. 

 

“In all honesty, though…” he sighed, rolling up his sleeves to his elbows, “…it’s going to be hard to keep this up. The fight happened quite close-by. I’ve been thinking about the possibility of closing this place up sometime soon.”

 

“Eh?” Taketora’s eyebrows shot up. “How come you never told any of us this?”

 

“It’s only logical,” Kenma mumbled, turning his gaze away from the news and back to his game. When Taketora’s fierce, questioning stare did not lift, he added more quietly, “Even if our situation had been the same as before, we can never be sure when the CCG will find us out.”

 

“How unfortunate,” Kuroo said with a shrug, “that Turniphead and Sleepy were captured. I expect that they’ll be interrogated sooner or later. I don’t mean to underestimate their resilience, but with stakes this high, they would be better off be dead. Don’t you think?” 

 

At that moment, the door to the bar opened.

 

“Welcome,” Kuroo called, face shifting to one of friendly welcome. Kenma put away his game and moved to stand behind the bar counter as three tall figures entered. At the briefcases they carried and the sight of one particular stoic face, Kuroo’s grin only widened. 

 

“How may I serve you today, investigators?”

 

* * *

 

“I do apologise for how quiet this place is,” Kuroo said as he fixed the three CCG officers their drinks. “Seems like yesterday’s catfight scared the public out of these parts. I assure you, it gets much busier than this—especially at this time of night.”

 

Investigator Ushijima did not blink. “Is that so.”

 

Kuroo chuckled, sliding a finished drink over to the youngest of the three. “Your job hasn’t been too harsh lately, I hope?”

 

The young black-haired man snorted, grabbing the glass and taking a hefty swig. “You’re kidding me, right? With so many of our co-workers getting themselves killed left and right, sometimes I feel like _I’m_ the one who is dead.” He choked a bit on his drink, prompting a guffaw from the spiky-haired man sitting next to him. 

 

“Chill out, Goshiki!” he laughed, clapping his junior on the back. “And isn’t that a little insensitive of you? I mean, one of your colleagues just died yesterday.” 

 

Goshiki let out a mumble that sounded vaguely like, “Shut up, Tendou,” before he continued his furious chugging of alcohol.

 

Ushijima’s gaze, while lingering on some unimportant object on the shelves behind Kuroo, was far away and distant. He muttered a curt thank you when he and Tendou received their drinks, lifting it to his lips and taking a small sip. Ice clinked against glass when he set it back down on the counter, his brows furrowed. 

 

Kuroo poured Goshiki another drink, complimenting the young man’s speed—“Be careful, if you throw up in here I could give you a small fine,” to which Goshiki sputtered and cursed—before giving Ushijima a sideways glance. “Something up, buddy?” he asked, reaching over to wipe up some water from the counter. “Y’know, I’ve heard a fair share of weird stories from piss-drunk customers; if you’ve got something on your mind, might as well speak it.”

 

Ushijima shook his head. “No, that will not be necessary.”

 

Kuroo shrugged nonchalantly. “Couldn’t be worse than the time dude got high and tried to fuck a goat because he thought it was his wife.”

 

Tendou nearly spit out his drink; Goshiki’s eyes bugged out. “What?!”

 

Ushijima watched the way condensation chased one another down the sides of his glass. He picked it up and drained the whole thing, until not a single drop was left.

 

* * *

 

“Right then, fellas,” Kuroo said, pocketing the generous tip as he watched the investigators gather their belongings as they got up to leave. “It’s about time I close this place up. It’s getting late. Thanks for the tip, by the way.”

 

Tendou waved his hand. “No worries, we’ve got money to spare. See ya.”

 

“Take care,” Kuroo said with a polite wave goodbye. “Tokyo is getting dangerous, now.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the "story" that Kuroo told them is mildly inspired by the British side of tumblr's whole "CAMERON FUCKED A DEAD PIG" thing that trended for about a day a while back LMAO Anyways, there's nothing much going on in this chapter... but it seems that the investigators are getting closer and closer to the ghouls. Hopefully they don't find out anytime soon!


	7. Lightning

“There have been ghoul investigators spotted around the 20th Ward,” Sawamura said, entering the coffee shop and closing the door to _The Crow’s Nest_ behind him. A sign that read ‘CLOSED’ quivered gently as the door shut. “We’d best be careful.” 

 

“Will it be a problem?” Yamaguchi asked quietly, fidgeting in his seat. Next to him, Tsukishima took a sip of black coffee. Ennoshita dried his hands quietly by the sink.

 

“Well, it’ll always be a problem,” Suga said, and he tried his best to keep his voice light. “Of course, as long as we don’t do anything silly, our identities shouldn’t be exposed.” 

 

“Don’t fret too much,” Sawamura added with a reassuring smile. “We’re already very low on the CCG’s radar. Plus, they’re busy investigating the binge-eater right now. We’re probably the last things on their mind.” 

 

“The binge-eater, huh…” Hinata murmured, his hand instinctively rubbing at his shoulder. The injury had long since healed; what remained of it was nothing but the faintest trace of a scar. And yet, whenever he was reminded of the wound, it throbbed with an uneasy ache. He glanced across the room; on the opposite side of the coffee shop, Kageyama only glared at his shoes, one hand curled into a fist as it rested on the table top. 

 

An uncomfortable silence passed. As if feeling Hinata’s gaze, Kageyama abruptly rose to his feet, chair scraping viciously in his haste. Sawamura’s sharp words of, “Where do you think you are going?” was lost on him, for in several long strides Kageyama was of _The Crow’s Nest_ and storming down the street. Hinata reflexively jumped to his feet with a screech of: **_“KAGEYAMA!”_**

 

“What did you do this time?” Tsukishima sneered, his condescending remark punctuated with Yamaguchi’s nervous laughter, but Hinata only brushed past him as he raced out the door.

 

“Wait—” Sawamura called, brow twitching in annoyance—but Hinata was already gone.

 

 

Hinata caught up with Kageyama without delay. “Where are you going?”

 

“Leave me alone.”

 

“That’s not an answer!”

 

“I’m going to _think._ ”

 

“About what?”

 

“I told you to _leave me alone!_ ”

 

Whirling around, Kageyama prepared to strike and Hinata readied himself to block—only for an elongated shadow to approach. The two froze; as two more shadows joined the first, Hinata’s eyes widened in shock. Skin bristling, Kageyama slowly turned his head when a single, stern voice pierced the night.

 

“What are you boys doing at this hour?”

 

Investigator Ushijima, flanked by Tendou and Goshiki, loomed over them. Several meters away, the lights in _The Cat’s Cradle_ switched off, windows going dark. Both ghouls’ mouths hung agape, and as much as Hinata tried, he could not speak. He glanced over at Kageyama for help—and his heart stopped at the sight.

 

Kageyama was shaking. The air was cool, hardly even warm—and yet sweat began to bead across his forehead. His wide-eyed gaze remained fixed on Ushijima, who in turn stared back. A lifetime seemed to pass before Hinata stumbled in front of Kageyama, blurting out, “W-We were just heading back home! We’re really sorry, we didn’t mean to be out this late, I—”

 

“Really, now?” Goshiki took a long stride forward, an eyebrow arched in disapproval. “That’s what they all tell us, don’t they, Tendou?” At his accusatory remark, the investigator laughed and crossed his arms: “Don’t be too harsh on them, now. You know kids these days; out drinking and partying like no tomorrow.”

 

Hinata bit his tongue to prevent an indignant retort of, _We’re not kids!_ Instead, he opted to stutter out, “Y-Yeah… we’re really sorry, investigators…”

 

“Hm.” Goshiki snorted, walking right up to them and looking them up and down. After a particularly long stare, he drew back. “Don’t get into any trouble now, you hear? We may not be typical police officers, but we won’t hesitate to reign any troublemakers in.”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Tendou snickered. “Keep on feeling like you’re more powerful than you are.”

 

“Hey!”

 

Meanwhile, Ushijima’s gaze remained locked on Kageyama’s quaking figure. At that moment, a lone car whizzed by—and in a brief flash, its white headlights illuminated the only five people on the deserted street. Hinata felt the air leave his lungs as the light became darkness once again because in that brief second, he swore he glimpsed a frightening flicker of recognition in the investigator’s eyes.

 

Ushijima tilted his head upward to look over their heads before striding past them; an unheard command had been issued and Tendou and Goshiki immediately hurried to follow him. Goshiki gave Hinata and Kageyama one last glare before departing, while Tendou waved them a polite goodbye. Once the investigators were out of sight, Hinata staggered backward to lean against the wall, releasing several shaky breaths.

 

“H-Hah… that was close…” He turned his head. “Right, Kageya—”

 

Kageyama was only staring blankly at the space the investigators once occupied.

 

“K-Kageyama...?”

 

Once Hinata’s hand touched his shoulder, he gave a sudden jolt, and Hinata instinctively jerked away. The painful electricity separated the two in their stony walk back to the cafe. A heavy silence trailed right behind them, ringing inside of their ears and their heads and pressing onto and into each of them like the suffocating embrace of an inescapable dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't had much motivation to work on this story lately... OTL I'm sorry to all my readers! If you're interested and want to see more updates, it would help me greatly if you left a comment! ;v; Thank you so much!!


End file.
